Beautiful Release
by Everything-In-Focus-94
Summary: RE-EDITED: Sherlock meets a woman who appears to be watching over him, always there when he needs her. What is going on and who is she? There will be a cameo from my favourite character from another show :D but not really a crossover. Sherlock/OC
1. Chapter 1: Beautiful Release

Beautiful Release

Her heart raced as her boot clad feet thundered through the halls of the leisure centre. Her breath hitched in her throat as she wrenched yet another door open, finding nothing within. She cursed under her breath, throwing the door shut and running towards the flight of stairs before her.

Taking two steps at a time she practically threw herself up the stairs, stopping only a moment when she noticed a guard sitting idly by the window. He was entranced by the glittering lights of the sirens beneath, on the lookout for any police who dared to throw themselves into a hostage situation, a loaded long range rifle by his side.

Reaching for the gun in her holdall she quickly pulled the trigger before as the guard turned around and opened his mouth to fire in surprise. The gun fired without a sound, causing the woman to smile at the success at her invention. The bullet however flew through the man's surprised face, spraying blood onto a nearby wall and the bullet itself embedded into the window, shattering glass and sending chips everywhere. She cursed at herself hearing the immediate panic of police chatter and the scurrying of feet as people rushed out of the way of fallen glass. She now had less than 10 minutes before the police stormed the place. She rushed down the hallway no longer worrying about being quiet.

Holding it at arm's length she immediately took out another guard before he'd even had a chance to get to his, who had been in close proximity gun and had been alerted by the noisy crash. She opened the door finding her on the balcony of the swimming pool. She shook her head at her own stupidity.

A single sniper. Not the 20 or so as she'd first thought. A single rifle and 15 laser pointers she quickly counted. Clever, clever, Moriarty. The man popped his gum, and she could almost hear a nervous jump coming from below them.

She crept up behind him, her breath silent and snaked an arm around his mouth. The man squealed into her palm, struggling against her iron tight grip for a moment before a resounding crack of broken bone echoed through the empty room. The man's struggles stopped and he fell limply to one side, his head no longer supported by his broken neck flopped to one side. She caught the gun as he slumped holding it close to her and gazing through the laser pointer.

Three men were in its sights and it was pointing directly at a tall dark haired man who had his back to who she now saw was someone she knew. The person she was looking for. Jim. She snarled under her breath. In the now sudden silence of the room she could hear what they were saying clearly.

"I would try to convince you... But everything I have to say has already crossed your mind!" the Irish man said, his voice rising with his sadistic excitement. The dark haired man peered at the sandy haired man who was sitting terrified, frozen with fear on the floor. The only movement he made was a slightly incline of his head. The taller man just nodded back, spinning around to brandish his Browning L9A1 at him. The woman smiled at the man's brazenness.

"Probably my answer has crossed yours" he uttered as he span. The two men locked eyes, a ferocious duel going on between them. The sandy haired man continued to look terrified for a moment before he frowned, his eyes resting on the red spots on the man's suited back.

"S-herlock?" he began, getting slowly to his feet. Sherlock turned slightly to his left to find his roommate standing at his side. Jim looked at his hostages, the first true look of confusion etched onto his normally smirking features.

"The snipers... They're not moving, not shaking, nothing." The sandy haired man finished pointing idly at the now motionless dots that were pointing at the bomb and the two men. Jim's eyes widened and he pressed a button on his watch. The two men flinched but relaxed as nothing happened to the bomb.

The woman felt triumphant as a walkie talkie beside her bleeped again, and again and again. She picked it up a smile appearing on her face.

"WHAT ON EARTH DO YOU THINK YOUR DOING!" she heard from two places. She held the button down and allowed her crackling breath to fill the room from the speaker hidden in Moriarty's watch.

"I'm sorry Jim, your snipers a little- broken. So I thought I'd fill in for him, nice trick with the laser pens by the way." She said disguising her own accent with a mimic of Jim's one. She stood up and cleared her throat loudly. Three sets of eyes flung to her.

"I believe I taught you that in the October of 95" she smiled, allowing her full painted lips to open revealing sparkling white teeth. She paused, holding a finger to her lips in mock confusion.

"But of course you wouldn't remember that... who would remember the ditzy blonde barmaid who had read far too many espionage and crime novels than was healthy..." With that she dropped the rifle, and clambered onto the balcony, dropping the small distance into the pool room. Landing artfully on her feet as a cat would, she brushed herself off and raised her gun to point at Jim. For the first time in the evening Jim paled and began to look scared. She began stalking around the pool, never taking her eyes off the criminal mastermind.

"Or the mischievous red haired Irish girl who knocked on your door one evening, looking for talcum powder to make a powder bomb to scare her brother... because that's what it is in there isn't it? Not explosives... and WHO could forget the French tourist who asked you for the time who made you get your phone out because your watch had been _misplaced_. And then she held that phone for a split second putting a bug on it? Well apparently you forgot, judging by the confused look on your face... you see Mr Holmes." She said, raising her eyes to meet the intrigued eyes off the consulting detective.

"You and _Jimmy _boy here aren't the only ones who are masters of disguise. After all, neither you nor your companion have realized I was the pregnant lady who your friend stopped you from stealing the cab from, leading to us sharing it because astonishingly we were going near the same places!" she mock gasped, holding an elegant gloved hand to her mouth.

"What a coincidence... of course I was just checking up on you, making sure that you didn't get blown up or kidnapped 3 times. Jim thought it was your genius Sherlock, not someone else helping you..." she smiled. Sherlock frowned, the grip on his gun tightening.

"Do you- do you work for my brother?" he said slowly. The woman let out a tinkling laugh.

"No... I do not work for Mycroft isn't it?" she said raising a perfectly shaped eyebrow. She gripped the gun tighter, holding at Jim who had been trying to back out of the side door.

"Don't you dare" she hissed. Jim paled again, his eyes widening.

"You see Jim; you've been noticed on the other side of the Atlantic. So of course they sent someone over to look for you" she began, allowing her voice to slip into her familiar soft English lilt.

"They needed someone who knew England, an operative displaced from her own country, that they'd trained to be as stealthy and quiet as a cat but as strong as a lion." She continued, moving towards him and placing the gun to his head.

"An assassin?" Sherlock asked, lowering his gun ever so slightly to take in her leather cat suit which clung to every curve of her body with weapons mounted on various holdalls. She rolled her eyes and looked at him.

"Why does everyone assume- OOF!" she grunted as Jim took advantage of her momentary distraction, grabbing her around the neck and wrenching the gun from her hand. It clattered to the floor noisily, neither of the two in the grip daring to grab it for fear of setting it off. Sherlock's gun flew upwards and he pointed it directly at Moriarty who was hiding behind the woman's head. She smiled shaking her head.

"Stupid mistakes on your part my dear" Moriarty sneered, bringing a knife from his pocket and running the blade along her face. She arched against him, causing his head to be next to hers.

"Oh no Jim, stupid mistake on your part" she whispered, huskily, struggling lightly against his arms. He frowned, the blade dropping to his side as his spare hand came up to steady her moving body. A smile appeared on her lips once more.

"How so?" he hissed. She tutted and shook her head again.

"You should never let me get this close" she whispered. With that she grabbed the hand that was enclosed around her throat, simultaneously kicking his legs out from beneath him and flipping him over her shoulder. Her auburn wig slipped and revealed the long glossy black tresses beneath it.

Jim clattered noisily to the floor, groaning for a moment before falling silent. The woman bent over him, turning him over and clipping handcuffs over his slender wrists, her newly freed hair dangling over his body. The two men continued to stare, Sherlock gun still armed and raised unsure whether they were still in danger.

"Relax- I didn't kill him, he's only unconscious." she smiled without looking at them, turning Moriarty back onto his back pinning his handcuffed hands between himself and the tiles. She span facing the shocked men.

"Th-thank you" John managed to stutter out, cradling his arm. The woman's forehead frowned and she beckoned him forward, a look of concern on her face. Sherlock immediately stiffened, raising the gun to point at her again. She rolled her eyes again.

"It's dislocated Mr Holmes, I doubt even a good doctor such as Dr. Watson could fix that himself without a huge struggle. Now John if you wouldn't mind?" she said pointedly. John placed his good hand on Sherlock's shaking arm, calming the detective immediately.

"She just saved our life's Sherlock" he said calmly. John walked forward and stood before the woman.

"Yes John, but she did just kill... 3 people wasn't it?" Sherlock continued, refusing to lower his gun. The woman sighed, grasping John firmly by the shoulder.

"Yes but they weren't very nice people. They would have killed you if they had the chance, this is going to hurt John" she whispered. John nodded gritting his teeth. With that she wrenched his shoulder back into place, hearing it as it popped back into the socket. John screamed his face sweating and his hand tight around her arm. Using the elastic from her wig as a holdall, she used Sherlock's discarded scarf as a sling tying it tight and firmly into place stopping the arm from moving any further.

"Ok all done... ok what is it Sherlock" she said, turning her eyes on the perplexed looking detective. John groaned clutching his arm.

"It's what you said... about the people not being nice, it's something he's heard before" he smiled looking over at the detective. Sherlock's brow furrowed and his mouth opened as if to begin to say something. He was interrupted of calls of police and hurried footsteps. Her time was up.

"Well boys, I have to get going." She said, walking towards the exit, taking her gun and ripped wig with her. She ran towards the exit, holding it open before looking back at the two men. Sherlock had given the gun back to John and was making his way towards her, his arm held out as if to stop her.

"Who are you?" he whispered, when they were face to face. Her unnaturally green eyes flicked up to his, close up he could see that they were contact lenses. She held her gloved hand to his face and gently stroked his cheek.

"You'll find out soon enough" she replied, gently pressing her lips to his skin. His eyes closed under the contact and as soon as it went and his eyes opened she too had disappeared. Sherlock remained frozen for a second before turning as Lestrade called his name.


	2. Chapter 2: Reunion

**Bit of bad language in this one guys. This is where the two stories begin to diverge :D Enjoy!**

2.0- Reunion

"How does he get himself into these situations!" she muttered under her breath as she once again found herself running down corridors to find the great Sherlock Holmes. Throwing the door open, she rushed into the room and directly into a fight.

Ducking under the knife of the first assailant she came across, she felled him with one heavy kick. He slumped, falling onto the body of John Watson. She gasped, rolling the heavy man off him and feeling for the smaller man's pulse. It was weak a bruise deepening in colour on his forehead but he was alive.

Her attention turned to another fighter who was running in her direction. He stopped and sneered at her, revealing yellow, rotten teeth.

"Ah e'llo little lady" he said, in a thick eastern European accent. His face morphed into one of shock as she sunk her taken sword deep into his chest. His eyes widened and blood bubbled up from his mouth as he slumped to the floor. She threw the sword away, running at the main fight were Sherlock was taking on three men who were amazingly even taller than him. Shrieking like a riled cat she jumped onto the tallest man's back, her hands encasing his neck. He ran backwards into the nearest wall, slamming her solidly against it. She howled out in pain and with a sudden burst of angry strength snapped his neck clean in two.

He fell away from her, releasing her from her prison. She wheezed getting air back into her partially crush lungs. A moment rest was all that was needed for her action hardened body and she grabbed her short knife from her boot. Running into the thick of the action, she ducked a punch from the person she was trying to help before running the razor sharp blade across one man's through causing arterial spray to go everywhere, just as Sherlock managed to give one massive blow to the other man's cheek. Their opponents fell simultaneously, noisily to the floor.

There was moment's breath before suddenly she found herself pinned once again against a wall. She squealed in shock as Sherlock's hand enclosed around her windpipe. She whimpered grasping at his hands, her strength all too apparent as she managed to prise two fingers off her. He tightened his grip, causing her to splutter and begin to choke. He looked at her with mad electric blue eyes.

"Who are you? And what are you doing here!" he shouted. She whined, still attempting to prise his fingers away.

"ANSWER ME!" he screamed, giving her a shake and causing her to hit her head against the wall.

"SAVING YOU, YOU FUCKING IDIOT!" she managed to shout back, kicking him squarely in the stomach. He groaned, shifting backwards and clutching his stomach, groaning. She gasped, massaging his throat.

"I didn't think we required rescuing" Sherlock groaned, still bent over. She turned on his facing him squarely on.

"The fact that John is only now just stirring and that your bleeding quite profusely says otherwise" she whispered, as the deep cut from one of the many swords that had been flung around the room came into view on Sherlock's forehead. Running a finger over the cut, she pouted and reached into one of the bags on her belt.

Sherlock chuckled as she smoothed a plaster over the cut, pursing her lips and standing on her tiptoes as she reached up to meet him. He grabbed her hand as she went to move away.

"Did my brother send you?" he whispered. She smiled revealing bright white teeth.

"I don't work for your brother, I thought we covered that at the pool" she said, her voice finally reverting from her put on Texan twang. His eyes widened in recognition as he saw past yet another pair of bright coloured contacts and the bleach blonde wig.

"Then who are you?" Sherlock asked. The woman raised her eyebrows.

"You asked me that last time as well" she replied. Sherlock nodded holding her a little tighter to him.

"Yes and you said I'd find out soon. Please tell me who you are." He gasped. She pulled away from him.

"A little bit longer, and then I promise you'll find out who I am" she finished looking at him sadly. They locked eyes, both knowing that if either leant forward their lips would meet.

John began to groan and cough in the corner causing the two people locked at the arm to look over at him. The woman sighed.

"I have to go" she whispered, her voice devoid of emotion but the sadness of leaving him apparent in her eyes. She turned back to him.

"You going to be ok now?" she asked, grasping him by the arms. Sherlock nodded, his eyes never leaving her face.

"Other than the fact that you've broken my ribs" he mock grumbled, looking down at her with a confused expression on his face. She laughed, throwing her head backwards.

"Trust me if I was trying to break your ribs you would not be standing" she chuckled. With a tiny salute she ran from the room, her footsteps echoing into nothing.


	3. Chapter 3: Guardian

**THIS IS WHERE IT TAKES A MORE SUPERNATURAL AU TURN- NO LIKEY, NO READY. SERIOUSLY- IT ONLY GETS STRANGER AFTER THIS. IF YOUR LOOKING FOR NORMAL TURN AROUND AND READ "THE DEVIL IN YOUR EYES". **(IRONICALLY IT WOULD SEEM FROM THE NAMES THAT THIS WOULD BE THE SUPERNATURAL ONE... GO FIGURE)

3.0- Guardian

As much as they denied it, everyone would still believe that John and Sherlock were dating. She even believed it as she peered over her menu at the exchange between the two men. The whole restaurant seemed to be intrigued as they continued to whisper and mutter.

She smiled as one elderly woman winked at the confused men, before starting as a man sat in the seat opposite her. He regarded her with one deductive look before steepling his fingers under his chin and leaning in.

"Care to tell my why you are watching the two men on the table behind me Miss?" he asked coolly. She shrugged, leaning in and lowering her voice to a whisper.

"Care to tell my why you're in disguise Mr Holmes?" she answered mimicking his tone. He smirked, leaning backwards.

"There are certain reasons why I would prefer that my presence go unknown in proximity to my brother. Especially given the circumstances with the- yes I am well aware about the assassin" she interjected quietly. Mycroft arched a semi-permanently dyed eyebrow.

"There are only 4 people in this country that are meant to know about that, that threat was delivered to my personal address." He said quietly dropping his voice. She raised her eyebrows swirling what appeared to be vodka but was really water around in her glass.

"_5_ people Mr Holmes... I have my ways, and let's just say you're not quite as impenetrable as you've been led to believe." She added suggestively, looking at a man who was making his way towards Sherlock and John's table. Mycroft watched him out of the corner of his eye.

"Waiter" he murmured. The woman nodded in agreement. Mycroft turned back to her, once again regarding her over his fingers.

"So... how does one go about stalking Sherlock Holmes and not being noticed" he asked an air of longing about him. She shrugged, swirling her drink again.

"I don't know Mr Holmes, you seem to be doing pretty well to avoid him right now" she said pursing her lips. Sherlock glanced over at her for a moment, causing her to freeze under his gaze. She didn't allow her eyes to lock onto him, no matter how much they wanted to.

"Maybe you're not quite as brave as you make out my dear" Mycroft hummed leaning back in his seat. The woman shook her head, allowing the wig to flick lightly around her shoulders.

"Not scared Mr Holmes, just cautious. We are both aware of the skills of your brother, and as I said I would prefer to go unnoticed. I cannot do what I've set out to do if he works out who I am" she said quietly, sensing Sherlock's probing eyes on her again.

"And what exactly is that? Because under the current circumstances I am a little suspicious of people setting out to do something to my brother" he said. The woman shot him a stony glare through ice blue contacts and red framed glasses.

"You think I am the assassin?" she growled. Mycroft froze under her scrutinising glare.

"Well, you appear to know about the threat on my brother's life and awful lot about him, I'm just curious as to how and why" he finished. Her face failed to soften.

"How, I am afraid I cannot tell you, and why also. But _why," _she sighed, her face falling from its harsh expression.

"Sherlock was meant to be out of my protection, months ago, but he intrigued me. And he continually got himself into problems and nearly got himself and John killed a number of times. I thought it would be unprofessional to stop looking after him in his hour of need." She finished, staring into her glass.

"And your profession is what exactly my dear" Mycroft said, placing his hand over hers on the table. He shot away as if he had been burned.

"A guardian angel" she whispered softy. Her eyes met Mycroft's and he looked deeply into chuckled nervously as she stayed deadly serious.

"No- you- can't" he stammered as her lips began to curve upwards into an intelligent smile.

Her body began to morph, and an echo of snowy white wings appeared behind her shoulder-blades, her hair falling in dark feathers around her cheeks and a supernatural intelligence behind her eyes.

"And I am seeing you how then?" Mycroft whispered. The woman smiled the wings fading behind her.

"I only allow those who I want to see me to see me, but Sherlock-" she stopped looking over at the man who was staring intently at the spot where she would be sitting.

"Somehow, he senses me. He always does, even when I'm not allowing him to" she finished. Mycroft noticed with a start that people appeared not to be able to see him either.

"Attention shift" she smiled, as if she had read his mind. "You'll be able to reappear and people will just think that you're a strange man that no-one noticed" she smirked.

"But your- right ok let me get this right. You're an angel? But I've heard about you in conversation, you've killed people" he started, looking at the anger behind the angels eyes.

"Yes" she whispered, her eyes burning with icy fire.

"You see Mr Holmes, it's not only angels that exist, other supernatural things exist, often the stuff of nightmares. The "people" I have killed, are really not people at all. It seems that Moriarty as human as he may be, must have contacts in the underworld. He keeps sending vampires, demons, werewolves; you name it- after Sherlock. "she finished looking at a greasy haired man who was staring intently at her. She looked around noting that no-one else appeared to have noticed the man.

Wiping her mouth with her napkin, she got from her seat and kissed Mycroft gently on the cheek.

"Tonight has been lovely Mycroft, I hope we meet again- now if you don't mind" she said pointedly arching an eyebrow. Mycroft continued to look startled, his cheek burning from the contact with the supernatural creature. Collecting her glass the woman strolled from the restaurant, stopping only to throw her drink over the man's face, no-one else hearing his howls of pain as the holy water melted his face.


	4. Chapter 4: Endangered

4.0- Endangered

"John! John give him to me!" the woman shrieked as John and the heavy bulk of Sherlock draped over his back came into view. John looked perplexed for a moment before moving the shivering and screaming man over to the woman.

Dropping him on the floor, John began to panic raising his hands into his hair, tears streaming down his face.

"Please please- what- the- wolf- "he stammered. The woman turned from Sherlock for a moment, placing her hands on either side of the shaking man's face. He immediately stilled, a feeling of peace falling over him. She turned back to Sherlock who was screaming his face contorted in pain.

"Ok, ok Sherlock" she whispered gently. Doing as she did with John she placed both her hands on his thrashing face, closing her eyes, seeing into his memory and bringing the man peace.

Sherlock felt as though morphine was spreading through his body, as a peaceful mist descended the pain disappearing as the woman's fingers gently entangled themselves in his hair.

"Of all the stupid things to do Sherlock." She whispered, her voice more sad than angry. Sherlock groaned.

"What would that be?" he murmured condescendingly. She had to resist the urge to slap him.

"Well maybe, after figuring out that the supernatural underworld is after you to go to Transylvania, which for obvious reasons can be considered a hive of activity for that type of person. And not only that but you begin tracking a werewolf- honestly Sherlock!" she practically growled at him. Sherlock laughed, before wincing as the motion made pain rack through his body.

"Werewolf? A woman of your age still believing in that old wives tale- OW!" this time she actually did slap him.

"Yes and you better start believing in them too as you've been bitten by one" she hissed, her hair falling into both their faces as she hovered over him. Sherlock's face fell and his eyes widened.

"You- you're being serious aren't you? I've been bitten by a werewolf" he said quietly. John whimpered beside them, his hands balled up in his face and his cheeks tear stained. The woman gently stroked his face.

"Yes but you're ok, I've got you" she whispered. Sherlock frowned for a moment before reaching up to touch her cheek.

"It's you- the woman who saved me from Moriarty and at the fight" he whispered. She nodded.

"Yes... I've been looking after you for a bit longer than that Sherlock. I've saved your life a fair few times since" she whispered biting her lip. Her hands moved to his chest, unbuttoning the silvery blood stained dress shirt and revealing the gaping wound within.

"Forgive me for being late this time... I was hoping I'd never had to do this." With that she placed her hands directly over the wound. Her eyes closed and a blinding light appeared underneath her hands. Sherlock looked over at John who had slumped to the floor.

"John" he called, looking over at his friend. The woman opened her eyes, and hovered her hand closer to the wound. Sherlock winced as he felt flesh and muscle stitch back together and blood begin to replenish itself. Sherlock arched as a final dash of pain went through him and suddenly there was peace.

"John won't remember this, and neither will you, really. I'll see you soon my love- try to stay out of trouble." she whispered to an unconscious but healed Sherlock.


End file.
